


Cake

by AWriterOfMany



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Halloween Costumes, His mind may never be the same, Innuendo, It's a bit of a crack!fic really, Poor Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 08:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5737168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AWriterOfMany/pseuds/AWriterOfMany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit of a one shot inspired by and dedicated to the best friend a girl could have, BAdeMorte. Sherlock and Molly's costumes are a nod to a very lovely story by an author I admire, see if you can guess which. XD</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BAdeMorte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BAdeMorte/gifts).



There was always one thing Sherlock Holmes missed in his deductions, he admitted this fact himself, loathe though he was to do so. He was often both inquisitive and perturbed when it came to discovering the discrepancy between his deduction and the actual truth. In the case of his brother Mycroft it was more that he was disturbed and somewhat horrified when this particular final detail fell into place.

It had all started with Halloween. More specifically the blasted Halloween party Molly had insisted they throw. He himself didn’t see point of dressing up for fun or candy, especially at their ages. However even Mrs. Hudson had expressed a certain excitement at the idea of a costume party and as she often liked to refer to herself as being in “that time of life.” he had a hard time denying her. As such he was vetoed on any disagreement he attempted to broach. In the end however it was only the whispered promises of a few of his more favored things with Molly that had gotten him into the Roman slave costume he was in now.

It was undignified. He felt like a child and as such his behavior reflected it. He stayed pouting in a corner of the living room for most of the evening despite Molly’s attempts to get him to socialize. Sherlock Holmes didn’t socialize, especially not while trussed up in such a ridiculous outfit. He could however appreciate how lovely Molly looked in her paired outfit, that of a Roman lady who was meant to be his owner, even while firmly denying that there were no ideas of any merit to be had involving these particular costumes on his mind.

As content as he was to stay in his corner however Molly would have none of it, finally flashing him a look that promised unspeakable things, which was never good coming from a woman who wielded a scalpel as gracefully as she did, and forcing him to cross over and join her in speaking to her current pair of guests. Who turned out to be Mycroft and Anthea, well didn’t his night just kept getting better and better, dressed up as…well he wasn’t sure what. Anthea was very obviously Marie Antoinette, but Mycroft was wearing a suit rather similar to his usual attire, his only concession to the occasion being that it was in colors that mirrored Anthea’s dress. The fact that his brother was spared the indignity of being forced into a ridiculous costume was not something that improved his mood any.

“Ah Mycroft! Pastels, bold choice for a man of your size. Good to see that you’re getting out of your comfort zone so to speak.” He was peevish, and sulky and not at all above taking it out on his older brother. Both brothers ignored the twin looks of utter annoyance from both Molly and Anthea as Mycroft accepted the challenge and they squared off. “Yes well, considering such words are spoken by a man currently not wearing any trousers I would say that I am still far less bold than some in the room.” Mycroft delivered his blow with his usual unruffled demeanor, little more than the raise of an eyebrow to warn he was raising the ante. His smile was downright shark-like before turning to Molly and settling into the almost fond look he reserved solely for his future sister-in-law. “Molly, I forgot to tell you that you look positively radiant in that costume, my apologies. However it is a pity you didn’t accessorize yourself with the whip most lords and ladies used those days used to punish slaves who spoke out of line.”  
Sherlock’s mouth tightened in a grim line at the taunt even as he stuffed the sudden mental image of Molly wielding such a contraption deep into his mind palace in a wing his brother was NEVER allowed to wander into. “Yes well in the spirit of the holiday perhaps I should play servant and fetch you a snack Mycroft. Still indulging in your rather healthy love of cake I’m sure, shall I fetch you a slice? Or are you back on some new diet again?” His grin was smug now, as sure as he always was that any talk of Mycroft’s perceived weight gain, considering it was the one thing in which his brother was irrational about with as any fool could see his weight was perfectly normal, would indeed strike the killing blow to his brother’s ego.

Therefore it was much to his confusion and irritation that he saw Anthea grin somewhat slyly as his brother chuckled at his insult. Actually chuckled. The nerve! He was at a complete loss to explain the unexpected reaction. “A diet, heavens no, I do believe I have been shown the error of my ways on that count. No I still quite enjoy indulging my love of cake these days Sherlock. Completely guilt free no less. Though I do think I will wait until I have returned home to have a slice. I find I am rather not fond of the idea of putting on a show for you by having one here.” His puzzlement at Mycroft’s words only grew as Anthea nearly choked on her punch trying to stifle a laugh. A quick glance at Molly proved no more helpful, she looked as if she wasn’t sure if she was amused or perhaps disturbed, either way a blush stained her cheeks and ears. What the devil was going here?!

Before he could voice his confusion however Mycroft was talking again, excusing him and Anthea both from the party and wishing Molly a pleasant evening. As he tried to puzzle through the events of the last ten minutes his mind barely registered Anthea leaning toward Mycroft and whispering throatily, “Yes, I do believe it is nearly time to let them eat cake as they say.” His mouth opened and closed a few times, still confused, as he registered Molly looking at him in amusement. “You didn’t deduce it did you? Not surprised.” She sounded absolutely chipper as she continued. “They’ve been very discreet since they started seeing each other.”

It was then that Sherlock’s mind ground to a halt as the pieces of conversation fit themselves into a picture that had him recoiling in horror. “Nope!” Was all he said as he calmly put his glass down and started heading for the quiet sanctity of his room, well his and Molly’s now if one were to be technical. With a worried frown Molly followed after him, catching him at the bedroom door. “Sherlock what on earth are you doing? Are you alright?” He scowled down at her, huffing. “Of course I’m not alright. I am very much not alright! Now do go away Molly, I have to purge my Mind Palace…very possibly of the fact that I ever even had an older brother in the first place!” His look was so very sour that Molly nearly doubled over in laughter as Sherlock gave one last dark scowl, shutting the door firmly and locking it. Moving back towards the party Molly grinned, Mary was so going to love this story.


End file.
